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James was in my platoon. He was one hell of a Marine, bright, and talkative. He talked about his family often. His father evidently had been killed in the WWII and he was quite determined to stand out in the Marine Corps. He did just that. Everyone liked him and he never showed any fear.
I wasn't with him the night that he died. Sgt. Sparman, another good man, was with him when he died from a motar attack. R. I P. James, everyone from the platoon missed you. Blainejerry